Pitchfork

Photos by Kirstie Shanley and Joseph Mohan; Above: Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks by Joseph Mohan

That unmistakable cocktail of sweat, dirt, suntan lotion, nacho cheese, and several varieties of smoke has seized upon the lakeside Chicago air, clothing is being shed by the bushel-ful, kids are strolling around Grant Park passing out fliers that read "REMEMBER BONNAROO? THEN FORGET KANYE", and not a single act (that I saw, anyway) can get through a set without making some comment on the heat. Welcome to Lollapalooza 2008, day one.

For Joshua Klein's coverage, click here: Friday
For Amy Phillips' coverage, click here: Friday
For Scott Plagenhoef's coverage, click here: Friday

Manchester Orchestra [1 p.m.]

Photo by Kirstie Shanley

Got angst? These guys do, and they were happy to share it with us on an otherwise sunny Friday afternoon. Actually a rock band from Atlanta, Manchester Orchestra have an asset in vocalist Andy Hull, who can wring a sort of gruff, convincing emotionality out of words with ease-- not unlike Bright Eyes' Conor Oberst or Pedro the Lion's David Bazan, both of whom I'd suspect are influences.

It's a shame, then, that the band largely lacked a physicality to match Hull's soul-searching yelps, its members instead content to lurk in their respective corners of the stage.

Still, the very best thing they've got going? That man up there is preeminently huggable. Don't you just want to throw your arms around him and say, "Hey man, everything's gonna be okay"?

The Go! Team [2:15 p.m.]



Photos by Kirstie Shanley

If the Go! Team ever decide to start a comedy-band routine, they stumbled into the perfect intro upon taking the stage yesterday. Everybody rushes out and grabs an instrument, crowd roars, feedback builds to a pitch, hands hover in the air primed to strike that first chord, annnnnnd-- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-- the shrillest banshee blast of feedback we're liable to hear all weekend.

The Team regrouped quickly though, and proceeded to plow through a fair portion of their feel-good catalog, every tune a crowd-pleaser by design. Interestingly, the very same thing that bogs down recent effort Proof of Youth-- an onslaught of high-energy cheer-alongs so relentless as to be numbing-- proved galvanizing here in the sunshine. Each successive invitation to shout or clap or bounce along only seemed to kick the energy up another notch. And really, between the major key mayhem, crazy colorful attire, and constant interactivity, what more could you want from a daytime festival performance?

Oh, and speaking of shrill...

Duffy [3:15 p.m.]

Photo by Kirstie Shanley

Not to be confused with fellow Lolla performer Uffie, similarly-packaged Mercury Prize nom-nabbing fellow Brit Adele, or Wales' last significant voice-beyond-her-years export Charlotte Church, it's Duffy, also very young, also very white, and also (entirely unlike Uffie and Church) doomed to be described as "soulful." From a marketing standpoint, she's among the hellspawn of the massive commercial success of Amy Winehouse, whether she likes it or not.

Lucky for her, Duffy has some pretty solid songs to work with: "Rockferry" has the sort of gradual, life-affirming, string-saturated build-up people-- and music supervisors-- go for, while "Serious" counters that with some welcome swagger. Here, however, Duffy frequently sounded shrill and chirpy, more canary than nightingale. To be fair, Lolla's equipment tends to make a lot of vocalists sound grating, but it hurt Duffy more than most. I noticed a steady exodus from the Playstation 3 Stage throughout the Spin cover star's set, even as other folks squealed whenever That Voice kicked it up an octave, and at least one dude with tatted-up arms in a Converge t-shirt cheered Duffy on emphatically.

Grizzly Bear [5:45 p.m.]





Photos by Kirstie Shanley

Certain things are lost when you coax Grizzly Bear out of the cave-like mid-sized indoor venues they're used to playing. This is a band that thrives on nuance, after all, draping oddly-structured songs in intricate arrangements that really demonstrate the unique contributions of each of the group's four members. One suspects Grizzly Bear would have a more difficult time subbing out a member-- like, say, Bloc Party are doing right now-- than a lot of acts.

Wisely, here they stuck primarily to the Daniel Rossen material, which tends to be built around the electric guitar and is thus louder. The only major exceptions were "Knife" and Ed Droste-led set centerpiece "Fix It"-- from Grizzly's bedroom-spun first offering Horn of Plenty-- which has turned into quite the epic, packing multiple parts and several false endings into what felt like a good 10 minutes.

And if there's one thing the great outdoors can't nullify, it's those gorgeous vocal harmonies, which only rang out more beauteous against the skyline and sunset.

Bloc Party [6:15 p.m.]



Photos by Kirstie Shanley

Ah yes, Bloc Party. Rocking a handsome Obama t-shirt, Kele Okereke and company were already a ways into their set by the time Grizzly Bear ended and I weaved my way through a few hundred yards of folks already getting in position for Radiohead. I seem to have stumbled into a sleepier portion of the set, but things picked up considerably with "The Prayer" and new single "Mercury"-- which, I'm sorry, still sounds to me like a meager attempt to cash in on last year's Klaxons-led new rave thing. Also, is that a "Shock the Monkey" sample? Really guys?

Still stuck further back than I would have liked, I took stock of much of this performance via the adjacent video screens, and learned a few things I wouldn't have otherwise in the process. Such as: guitarist Russell Lissack has amassed an impressive collection of stickers on his pickguard. By the time Okereke invited the crowd to shout out absent bassist Gordon Moakes' new kid via the live audio stream, I was considering how precariously close we are to creating an at-home festival experience that's preferable to the real thing. Once streaming technology improves and live fest videocasts take off-- and they will-- all the heat and sweat and high ticket prices will have to compete with better vantage points, superior sound, air-conditioning, cheaper beer, and the very real possibility of being able to take it all in while not wearing any clothes. Then again, maybe I just let WALL-E get to me.

Stephen Malkmus & the Jicks [7:15 p.m.]



Photos by Joseph Mohan

Poor Mr. Malkmus had the dubious honor of playing immediately prior to his 2003 tourmates Radiohead on the stage just opposite theirs. And indeed, down in the audience, much craning of necks and nervous shifting of feet would ensue. Leave it to Malkmus to describe the situation pithily: "The Cruel Overlap," he announced upon taking the stage, prompting one audience member to reply pointedly, "FUCK RADIOHEAD!"

Still, the slacker cool of Mr. Malkmus shone through as he and the Jicks spun through a bunch of Real Emotional Trash material (but no "Cold Son" or "Out of Reaches", boo), a new jam called "Water in the Sea", and particularly crowd-pleasing renditions of Face the Truth's "Pencil Rot" and "Baby C'mon". The Trash material sounded a little rough, but here's where Malkmus and the big band across the way differ vastly. Had Radiohead flubbed up the opening bars of a song like Malkmus did with "We Can't Help You", some folks would be aghast (until Thom Yorke made a funny or something). But with Malkmus? It's all part of the charm.